[ There's certain manners of submission that he's learned to live with, because it's far easier to hear Daphne gasping and moaning while he's on his knees than someone giving him orders. Besides, he's known enough extremely talented whores to know that being able to do this well is a rather priceless sort of talent.
So as long as he's doing it to Daphne's satisfaction, that's a good sign for him.
He doesn't stop as soon as she grinds back, or discourage her from doing it; both hands hook around her thighs so he can keep his face buried between her legs, rolling the bead of her clit with his tongue before licking his way inside her. He growls, the sound vibrating into her pussy, working her over like he's perfectly content to make her come before either of them does anything else. ]
[She's already on edge; the fight and his touch and the hungry way that he looked at her means that this is making her crazy sooner than usual, swearing in rapid, fluid Spanish as she keeps rubbing herself onto his face and he keeps moving his tongue like he's reciting some epic poem into her pussy.
She hisses, but this time it's human sounding. She wishes, almost, that she could shift a bit, that she could let go just a little more, but she can't and she doesn't. Instead she wants to fuck him into a wall, she wants to press his cock inside of her, she wants to ride him until he screams.]
I'm going-
[She takes a breath, and snarls.]
I need your dick inside of me, spreading me open, ay, puton-
[She shudders as she orgasms, and when she looks in the mirror she sees her eyes shift, her hair turn orange for just a second, and she opens her mouth and screams, a sound more feline than human.
She spins around and pulls him up by the arm and pushes him into the shower and into the wall, of it. It isn't on but she's practically climbing him, kissing him and biting his mouth.]
[ Fuck yes, that's what he wanted, and he laps her orgasm from her before she can take it from him because he knows it's just a matter of time--
--and there it is, the way she practically throws him against the inside wall of her shower, coming at him like the tigress she is.
Vane answers her kiss hungrily, answering every bite with one of his own. He may not be literate, but he knows Spanish nearly as well as English, so he knows she's ready to fight him now if she has to, and even if he didn't care he's still dying to get his cock inside her now, while her cunt is still throbbing with one orgasm. So the second he can brace himself to do it, he lifts her into his arms and wraps her legs around his waist. All it takes is a second to find the angle before he fills her up with one thrust.
[They move like they've known each other for years, like they've fucked for years. They're too familiar, it's too easy, but in a way that works, in a way that makes every nerve in Daphne's body to light up. He pushes that magnificent cock up into her and she clings to him, moving her body.]
Just like that-
[He asks her what she needs and her eyes come to meet his, wide and wild. She's losing control. She doesn't usually, but here she is.
She puts her arms on his shoulders and holds on, starting to buck like a furious, feral creature.]
Brace me back and pin me against the wall.
[She says it because if he doesn't she's going to do something terrible, she's going to start digging her claws into his chest and tearing him apart.
[ So much about her is familiar to him in ways that could only ever draw him to her. The wildness in her that attracted him exactly like a moth to the flame is so much more palpable now - he can practically feel it beneath her skin everywhere he grasps at her, hypnotized by the smoothness of her skin, right up until she starts to ride him like a wild animal.
Well. He doesn't want to get ripped apart, but he doesn't want to stop fucking her either.
Immediately he turns them around, and presses her back into the corner of the shower, pinned on two sides with the weight of him in front of her, and he flexes his hips to drive his cock deep into her. He watches her eyes, the wide predator's gleam in them, and has a moment of very clear awareness that if he's meant to die a second time, this would be a worthwhile way to go.
The fact that death doesn't stick around here certainly softens the risk, so Vane grabs two handfuls of her ass and starts to fuck her without making her wait. ]
[She probably - probably - wouldn't end up killing him. She wants to be able to fuck him again, after all, but there is a sleek satisfaction to the way he's pressing her up against the wall, the way that her legs come up around his hips, the desperation that they're both fucking with. Her cunt is slick and hot and still pulsing from her first orgasm, and she kisses him then.
The taste of her on his mouth is better than any candy, and Daphne has a sweet tooth like a child.
The more he fucks her the less she bucks, although she's certainly keeping pace, moving in ways that highlight how strong she is, sinuous as she rocks against him]
[ There's a moment where it becomes less like she's trying to impale herself on his dick, and more fluid and graceful and greedy, and it's that shift that makes him groan into the kiss, shifting so that he can work with the solidness of the wall to fuck her deeper.
The cold porcelain is already warming up from the heat of their bodies. They haven't even turned the goddamn water on yet.
Eventually her grip on his hips is doing enough of the work to keep her where she is, so he spares one hand to slide it into her hair, fingers scraping the back of her head. The kiss turns long and languid, almost at odds with the way he fills her up with his cock, and he presses his whole body flush against hers as he remembers the primal fury in her eyes. ]
[The pressure between the wall and his body means that she doesn't feel at all like she'll fall. She practically purrs against the sweet pressure of his fingers in her hair, and she purrs into that kiss, not getting pliant anywhere but their mouths.
Her own hands come to his shoulders, her fingers digging into the hard muscle and gripping there. She's not going to leave bloody marks today, but she will leave bruises in the shape of her fingers for him to find and finger later.
She keeps moving her hips, and she moves away from the kiss to find his throat, to find a spot to mark there, too, with teeth and tongue and her clever mouth.]
[ What a palpable change it is when the threat of imminent bodily harm has been temporarily averted; he doesn't feel like he has to fuck her hard enough to distract her from opening him up like a wild pig, so at some point it becomes an effort just to meet the way her hips move, filling her up each time she ripples her lithe body to get it.
Her mouth at his neck sends a heavy throb to his cock inside her, making his pulse race for the briefest instant as her teeth make contact with his flesh. The thrill of it makes him tip his head back with a groan, and the fingers in her hair pull tight and then drag down the back of her neck.
He doesn't stop fucking her, using deep but languid strokes now, gripping one thigh wrapped around his waist hard enough to leave bruises behind. For as urgent as it felt to do anything that would let him come before, he's enjoying the steady build to it now, panting breaths coming out thicker and rougher at her ear. ]
[His hips move more slowly, and it actually makes her move with him, not demand more. Instead she balances on the way it makes her feel; clenching around him when he's deep in her, slipping one arm around his neck to balance, and move her mouth to the other side of his throat, and decides to mark him there, too. Her other hand dances down the length of his chest, to one of his nipples. She catches it between her fingers and twists, hard, and laughs, dark, against a blossoming bruise.
They don't need to talk; there's a conversation between them anyway, in the way that his body holds her up, in the way she slips on him, in the huff of breath and the laughing, pleased and impossibly hot.
She can feel that pleasure build more languidly, that pressure between them, and it makes it better, warmer. Like he's calmed her, but hasn't tamed her.]
[ The pinch of his nipple makes him snarl, and each twist prompts a sharper thrust into her, while the hand at the back of her neck moves to give as good as he's getting. The curve of his hand molds her breast, rough and almost possessive, dragging down to twist her nipple in return for what she's doing to his.
And his hips keep pumping, the slick wetness of her pussy soaking him all over again, as the heat in his belly coils tighter and tighter until it's his turn to come with a savage curse.
Vane buries himself inside her exquisitely hot cunt as his release pulses out of him, pulling her halfway from the wall to make sure he can grip her as tightly as he wants to. And as good as it would feel to ride the crest of it down to nothing, he keeps fucking her even when it feels too good, because either she's gonna come too, or she's gonna tell him what else she wants. ]
[The noise she makes is almost a snarl of a laugh, somewhere between pleasure and pain and approval and irritation. The fact that he can do that, the fact that he does, that he knows she could destroy him, doesn't know why, and will still take out that kind of revenge makes the heat of her cunt throb. She grips him as he comes, and he keeps moving, like a maniac, and it's good.
She reaches for her own breast, and that's what it is, that's what it takes, the intense look in his eye and the way he keeps fucking her.
The tell-tale shudder of her orgasm comes moments later, then, and she reaches to hold onto him, her face against his shoulder, her breath high-pitched and coming faster.
It takes a moment for her to come down, one foot, and then the other. Once her feet are on the shower floor, she presses her forehead right against his shoulder.]
[ Ugh, it feels so fucking good when she does that. All of it. Tightening her grip on him, and her throbbing pussy, and holding herself close to wring everything she can from him. At a certain point, the walls are holding both of them up.
As he feels her starting to lower herself, he relaxes his hold to let her do it, giving her enough room to settle on her own two feet. But he doesn't draw away yet. He straightens a little, and slides both arms around her again.
As soon as she lifts her head, he's going to kiss her, the blaze of hunger in him settling back to a simmer again, but the taste of her is just too good to pass up. And he can spare one hand to twist the shower on to hot. ]
Tell the truth. [ Vane strokes the underside of her chin, rather like petting a cat. ] Did you want to kill me for a moment?
[She doesn't want him to pull away; she wants him to stay close. His body is hot and his smell is thick with her pleasure. She does lift her head, and finds herself kissing him, and it's good, calming. Her breath evens, and when he moves away she chases him for yet another kiss, this one softer, this one almost affectionate.
And then he asks that, and he's touching her against where her scent glands would be, which makes her eyes close a bit in feline delight.]
Yes.
[She practically purrs it.]
When you picked me up in the bar I was ready to destroy you.
[ His eyebrows immediately go up. But even the surprise is more amused than anything. ]
Oh. Then this turned out very well for me.
[ The water is already turning to hot, so he pulls them under it, sucking in a breath at the brief sting but god damn do modern showers feel good. He tips his head back to soak his hair and then straightens up again with a little shake, rubbing his face dry. ]
I like a woman who's not afraid to shed a little blood... even if it's mine.
[She considers that for a moment, and reaches for soap. All the soap that they use has relatively neutral scent, because her nose is so sensitive, and she lathers it up, pushing him a little to get half in the spray.]
You really bring it out in me. It's interesting. Most of the time I keep a much tighter lid on my violence.
[ Extremely hot. Hypnotic, even. He doesn't interfere, but after a certain point he feels compelled to touch a particularly sentient-looking stream of water sluicing its way down between her breasts.
It's a soft touch. Deceptively delicate. ]
I realized that you're stronger than I thought.
[ He traces one nipple with the pad of his thumb so lightly that it's almost an afterthought. ]
Might have waited to see how far you'd get, if not for the guards.
[ He wonders what it's like for her. There's a deep well of rage within him, but he's had his own practice at tapping into it instead of letting it spill over onto everything else. It slips so easily out of his control when that happens, along with the things he does under its influence.
Hers is another level. But that doesn't mean he can't imagine what it's like, reining that in every time it's provoked. He scrubs the soap into his hands, and then glides the bar over her shoulders and down the middle of her back. ]
It didn't seem like you were trying very hard back there, tigress.
[ Picking her up from sex jail surrounded by even more corpses, he suspects. In fact, part of him is wondering if a place like Duplicity is really equipped to handle someone like Daphne - but what the fuck would he know about it, really. ]
What did that look like?
[ It's kind of a fucked up question to ask, but he's dying to know. She just becomes more fascinating to him all the time. The fact that it's punctuated with two slick, soapy hands kneading her ass is purely coincidental, probably. ]
[She turns her head just a little, to eye him out of the corner of her eye. He's getting off on the idea of her really doing serious damage, isn't he? It's oddly liberating, even though right afterwards she hated herself a little for it. Not for the rampant killing - honestly killing people was a part of it, but mostly for the lack of control. For killing people who didn't deserve it.]
Bloody.
[She reaches back, so her hand is against the nape of his neck, and she's on her tiptoes a bit.]
Lots of bodies. I didn't come out of the house for weeks. I felt bad for losing control. If I mean to kill someone, it's because they've done something to me, not because they walked in front of me while I was having a temper tantrum.
[ The notion of blood, gore, and death at her hands doesn't deter him. But it's the last thing she says that manages to hit a nerve he wasn't expecting. It makes him pause, tilting closer under her hand, his own at her hips. ]
I know how you feel.
[ It's a point of honor for him, as someone with a questionable moral compass to begin with: he's never killed someone without having a reason.
Granted, he's almost certainly played more fast and loose with what counts as a reason than she does, but by the time they hanged him, he was taking that kind of thing more seriously. ]
The kind of power you have must be hard not to abuse.
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So as long as he's doing it to Daphne's satisfaction, that's a good sign for him.
He doesn't stop as soon as she grinds back, or discourage her from doing it; both hands hook around her thighs so he can keep his face buried between her legs, rolling the bead of her clit with his tongue before licking his way inside her. He growls, the sound vibrating into her pussy, working her over like he's perfectly content to make her come before either of them does anything else. ]
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She hisses, but this time it's human sounding. She wishes, almost, that she could shift a bit, that she could let go just a little more, but she can't and she doesn't. Instead she wants to fuck him into a wall, she wants to press his cock inside of her, she wants to ride him until he screams.]
I'm going-
[She takes a breath, and snarls.]
I need your dick inside of me, spreading me open, ay, puton-
[She shudders as she orgasms, and when she looks in the mirror she sees her eyes shift, her hair turn orange for just a second, and she opens her mouth and screams, a sound more feline than human.
She spins around and pulls him up by the arm and pushes him into the shower and into the wall, of it. It isn't on but she's practically climbing him, kissing him and biting his mouth.]
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--and there it is, the way she practically throws him against the inside wall of her shower, coming at him like the tigress she is.
Vane answers her kiss hungrily, answering every bite with one of his own. He may not be literate, but he knows Spanish nearly as well as English, so he knows she's ready to fight him now if she has to, and even if he didn't care he's still dying to get his cock inside her now, while her cunt is still throbbing with one orgasm. So the second he can brace himself to do it, he lifts her into his arms and wraps her legs around his waist. All it takes is a second to find the angle before he fills her up with one thrust.
The savage kiss breaks with another snarl. ]
Tell me what else you need, tigress.
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Just like that-
[He asks her what she needs and her eyes come to meet his, wide and wild. She's losing control. She doesn't usually, but here she is.
She puts her arms on his shoulders and holds on, starting to buck like a furious, feral creature.]
Brace me back and pin me against the wall.
[She says it because if he doesn't she's going to do something terrible, she's going to start digging her claws into his chest and tearing him apart.
The thing is:
She doesn't realize she says it out loud.]
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Well. He doesn't want to get ripped apart, but he doesn't want to stop fucking her either.
Immediately he turns them around, and presses her back into the corner of the shower, pinned on two sides with the weight of him in front of her, and he flexes his hips to drive his cock deep into her. He watches her eyes, the wide predator's gleam in them, and has a moment of very clear awareness that if he's meant to die a second time, this would be a worthwhile way to go.
The fact that death doesn't stick around here certainly softens the risk, so Vane grabs two handfuls of her ass and starts to fuck her without making her wait. ]
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The taste of her on his mouth is better than any candy, and Daphne has a sweet tooth like a child.
The more he fucks her the less she bucks, although she's certainly keeping pace, moving in ways that highlight how strong she is, sinuous as she rocks against him]
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The cold porcelain is already warming up from the heat of their bodies. They haven't even turned the goddamn water on yet.
Eventually her grip on his hips is doing enough of the work to keep her where she is, so he spares one hand to slide it into her hair, fingers scraping the back of her head. The kiss turns long and languid, almost at odds with the way he fills her up with his cock, and he presses his whole body flush against hers as he remembers the primal fury in her eyes. ]
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Her own hands come to his shoulders, her fingers digging into the hard muscle and gripping there. She's not going to leave bloody marks today, but she will leave bruises in the shape of her fingers for him to find and finger later.
She keeps moving her hips, and she moves away from the kiss to find his throat, to find a spot to mark there, too, with teeth and tongue and her clever mouth.]
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Her mouth at his neck sends a heavy throb to his cock inside her, making his pulse race for the briefest instant as her teeth make contact with his flesh. The thrill of it makes him tip his head back with a groan, and the fingers in her hair pull tight and then drag down the back of her neck.
He doesn't stop fucking her, using deep but languid strokes now, gripping one thigh wrapped around his waist hard enough to leave bruises behind. For as urgent as it felt to do anything that would let him come before, he's enjoying the steady build to it now, panting breaths coming out thicker and rougher at her ear. ]
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They don't need to talk; there's a conversation between them anyway, in the way that his body holds her up, in the way she slips on him, in the huff of breath and the laughing, pleased and impossibly hot.
She can feel that pleasure build more languidly, that pressure between them, and it makes it better, warmer. Like he's calmed her, but hasn't tamed her.]
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And his hips keep pumping, the slick wetness of her pussy soaking him all over again, as the heat in his belly coils tighter and tighter until it's his turn to come with a savage curse.
Vane buries himself inside her exquisitely hot cunt as his release pulses out of him, pulling her halfway from the wall to make sure he can grip her as tightly as he wants to. And as good as it would feel to ride the crest of it down to nothing, he keeps fucking her even when it feels too good, because either she's gonna come too, or she's gonna tell him what else she wants. ]
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She reaches for her own breast, and that's what it is, that's what it takes, the intense look in his eye and the way he keeps fucking her.
The tell-tale shudder of her orgasm comes moments later, then, and she reaches to hold onto him, her face against his shoulder, her breath high-pitched and coming faster.
It takes a moment for her to come down, one foot, and then the other. Once her feet are on the shower floor, she presses her forehead right against his shoulder.]
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As he feels her starting to lower herself, he relaxes his hold to let her do it, giving her enough room to settle on her own two feet. But he doesn't draw away yet. He straightens a little, and slides both arms around her again.
As soon as she lifts her head, he's going to kiss her, the blaze of hunger in him settling back to a simmer again, but the taste of her is just too good to pass up. And he can spare one hand to twist the shower on to hot. ]
Tell the truth. [ Vane strokes the underside of her chin, rather like petting a cat. ] Did you want to kill me for a moment?
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And then he asks that, and he's touching her against where her scent glands would be, which makes her eyes close a bit in feline delight.]
Yes.
[She practically purrs it.]
When you picked me up in the bar I was ready to destroy you.
[And:]
And later. Before you got me in the shower.
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Oh. Then this turned out very well for me.
[ The water is already turning to hot, so he pulls them under it, sucking in a breath at the brief sting but god damn do modern showers feel good. He tips his head back to soak his hair and then straightens up again with a little shake, rubbing his face dry. ]
I like a woman who's not afraid to shed a little blood... even if it's mine.
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[She considers that for a moment, and reaches for soap. All the soap that they use has relatively neutral scent, because her nose is so sensitive, and she lathers it up, pushing him a little to get half in the spray.]
You really bring it out in me. It's interesting. Most of the time I keep a much tighter lid on my violence.
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He turns out of the spray enough for her to have it, very much looking forward to watching her lather suds all over her naked body. ]
How often does it need the lid?
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When you saw me, what did you think? When you saw me slamming that idiots head into the bar?
[The answer of how often it needs the lid is more complicated than she would probably like to admit.]
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It's a soft touch. Deceptively delicate. ]
I realized that you're stronger than I thought.
[ He traces one nipple with the pad of his thumb so lightly that it's almost an afterthought. ]
Might have waited to see how far you'd get, if not for the guards.
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My back, please.
[She says please like she has manners - and she does - or like she didn't admit that she wanted to kill him.]
I wouldn't have killed him. Really.
[She pulls her hair up.]
The rage is always there. Simmering. I mostly keep it in check.
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Hers is another level. But that doesn't mean he can't imagine what it's like, reining that in every time it's provoked. He scrubs the soap into his hands, and then glides the bar over her shoulders and down the middle of her back. ]
It didn't seem like you were trying very hard back there, tigress.
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If I weren't trying hard, he really would be dead.
[Faster than he could have stopped her, before anything would have stopped her.]
And you'd be picking me up from sex jail.
[She closes her eyes in the pleasure of someone else touching her.]
Poor Billy. He had to deal with it, after I lost control. With me.
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What did that look like?
[ It's kind of a fucked up question to ask, but he's dying to know. She just becomes more fascinating to him all the time. The fact that it's punctuated with two slick, soapy hands kneading her ass is purely coincidental, probably. ]
When you lost control.
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Bloody.
[She reaches back, so her hand is against the nape of his neck, and she's on her tiptoes a bit.]
Lots of bodies. I didn't come out of the house for weeks. I felt bad for losing control. If I mean to kill someone, it's because they've done something to me, not because they walked in front of me while I was having a temper tantrum.
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I know how you feel.
[ It's a point of honor for him, as someone with a questionable moral compass to begin with: he's never killed someone without having a reason.
Granted, he's almost certainly played more fast and loose with what counts as a reason than she does, but by the time they hanged him, he was taking that kind of thing more seriously. ]
The kind of power you have must be hard not to abuse.
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